I dare any of you with the storms to send them my way. I dare ya!!!! All this damn sunshine!! I can't take it anymore I tell you. I just can't take it!!! I want rain! I want a thunderstorm.


TIS

You wouldn't think that if you saw me about 45 minutes ago.... I was totally drenched to the skin... the guy from whom I bought dinner was nice enough to put it in a box (when he saw the rain coming down) but I had trouble getting it into the car and ended up spilling some of my dinner.... I then had to forge a six foot wide stream about 4" deep in front of my driveway only to fumble with the keys as I was balancing my dinner trying to open the door while the rain from the roof was pouring down on me.

I'm drenched to the skin too, but it's not from rain. Wanna trade?

Now this is a mental picture I won't soon forget.

You trying to recreate the theme from the movie Flashdance?

Don't think so.... my drenching doesn't smell like workout sweat.

My Ding-a-Ling! My Ding-a-Ling! I want...DOH! Wrong song.

TIS- I'll send ya some snow in a few months.

We had plenty of lightning. Long jagged streaks that seemed to separate the sky for more than a quick flash.

What chu talkin' about Willis? Let's not get carried away now. Rain, I like, snow...that's a totally different ball game. I'll let you enjoy the snow.

TIS

Come on be a team player

Beth, you must have gotten some rain now. I'm watching the Yankees play the Orioles and they just had to cover the field because it was POURING.

I have a headache

I had the worst headache in existence a few days ago. It lasted nearly half the day; no over-the-counter pain reliever known to man could cure it.

So I decided to try snorting heroin.

After getting caught in the rain twice in the last two days, I'm not feeling too well.

I'm gonna feel like shit tomorrow.

I'll have some of that heroin, please.

In the 1960's and maybe even the 70's, they used to have something called the sleep cure. Need to lose some weight? Feeling a little stressed? You'd go to a verrrrrrry expensive private "clinic" and they'd put you in a medically-induced coma for a little while. You supposedly would wake up feeling quite refreshed. For some reason, I believe that they decided that it was not healthy.

...One man wears a daphne blue polyester leisure suit; the ones that everyone thought were thrown out back in 1982 along with their old Beta-max copies of “Saturday Night Fever”. He firmly clutches onto the aluminum pole that runs from the ceiling of the train, right down to the floor, and he wears the first three buttons on his shirt open so his chest hair is exposed. He is balding on top, and his hair has gone grey with age, but he still fashions it into a pony-tail and streaks at least a dozen flammable substances through it to make it look wet. A big black eye-patch covers his right eye… the black elastic band that wraps around his head disappears under his grey pony-tail. On his face, a grey five o’clock shadow with hints of brown and champagne gold settles in, with a little opening where his lips are. His lips, all pink and chapped, fasten around the orange-brown tip of a non-filtered cigarette, and a cloud of grey smoke hovers above his head and rushes into the lungs of everyone around him, slowly putting them to sleep with a heart rate monitor hooked up around their chest.

Sitting down on a red seat, about two feet away from the man with the eye-patch and blue leisure suit, a woman in her mid fifties sits next to a young child—most likely her grandson—who sits on an orange seat. She wears a flashy silk dress, full of shiny shades of green and pink, and over that she has on a fur coat, even though it is early April and about fifty-eight degrees outside. Her eyes are bright green which causes them to contrast greatly with her fire engine red hair that she has styled into a beehive. Her hair hurts your eyes when you look at it and it matches with her lipstick and high heeled shoes.

The woman, slowly inching her arm around her grandson and pulling him in close, turns to the cigarette smoking man in the leisure suit and looks into his one eye. Frantic and panicking, she yells “Please, stop smoking! You can’t smoke that here! This is a subway-train! You’re going to kill my grandson! He’s going to kill my grandson with his tobacco, someone, please stop him!” The leisure suit man turns to the shiny woman, and blows a big cloud of smoke in her face.

A single breath from him, and he could kill anyone he desires.

Then the leisure suit man turns to the boy, and in a Russian accent says, “Hey, kid, wanna’ see my tattoo?” Without hesitation, he takes one hand and pulls his opposite sleeve up his arm to reveal a pelican inked into his bicep. The woman grabs the boy closer to her and begins to weep like a recently widowed bride....

Mother nature finally decided to dispense some heaven tears on us last night. Of course, it was after I had already gone to bed and didn't really matter.

If I begged and pleaded I had to get my way eventually.

It didn't start raining here till about 1:30 this morning. I was still up cuz that's when the Col. had to go to work. I smell overtime next paycheck

Oh yeah I still have my headache

Sounds to me like saturday night dinner is going to be on Mig at the BB weekend get together!

It won't be on me it will be on the Col. That is if I can talk him into going. Any chance you can make an appearance at all?

Mig is on finally on top

You couldn't have waited until the Yankee game was finished?

What's that from?

Baseball plays no bearing on my choices in life..haha.

Besides, I might have melted by then.

Fair enough. At least Jeter got that hit before the tarps came out, which I believe pissed off Baltimore to no end.

Don't take it personally. Living in Baltimore is reason enough to piss people off.

My mind.

That's what I thought.

Is it part of a larger story? Or is it just that excerpt?

And you're damn right I did.

Now where's that heroin, boy?